The Dragon Throne
by Wolf'sLastStand
Summary: The return of the young prince Azymondias saved the throne of the dragons from destruction. And while many wish to repair the rift between humans and elves, there are others who desire to widen it. As the powerful archmage Aaravos and his followers prepare to make their final stand, close friends must unite to at last bring peace to all of Xadia. My take on a fourth TDP season!
1. The Price To Pay

**THE PRICE TO PAY**

"You're late— and, no, before you say anything: you _aren't_ fashionable about it."

"Hey, now! You can't shut down my comebacks until I've _made _them, Ionas."

Nyx's footsteps on the stone beneath her made a gentle clicking sound that echoed in the enormous cave adorned with crystals. They glowed with raw magic, filling the space with the low hum of primal energy. As the young elf approached the throne on which a quite annoyed Ionas lounged, she felt herself tensing up. The icy confidence which the Skywing prince exuded was not there without reason. He doubtlessly knew as well as her that he was safe up there on his glorified chair, and that any attempt to hurt him would be certain suicide. Not like she had any intention of it. Unsurprisingly, he ignored her failed attempt at humor, and instead chose to sit up and scowl at her with cloudy cyan eyes.

"Have you brought me what I asked?" His voice was calm and collected, but Nyx was keenly aware of the hard edge behind it. He was not in a good mood. How wonderful. She took a deep breath, preparing for the storm, and looked away.

"No, I haven't. I'm sorry, I really am. But you wouldn't understand unless you had been there. The dragon prince was well-guarded, and even my best attempts were—"

"_Silence_!" boomed Ionas. His outburst made the cave shudder in protest, and the Skywing bounty hunter flinched as the crystals surrounding her thrummed. Shit, shit, shit. Not ideal. The prince quickly stood up, eyes flashing with fury. "I do not care if it sat between the claws of Sol Regem himself! Allowing that dragonet to escape has made things a thousand times more difficult for me. Do you know what kind of power it holds? Or can you not get it through your thick skull that its retrieval was absolutely crucial?"

"No, no, no! I know, I knew! Really! It was my fault; I underestimated how determined they would be to get him back. G-give me a second chance! I can make it up to you! I... uh... name the artifact! I'll have it at the foot of the throne before you can wave me goodbye. A-any person's name in all the lists of history, elf or human, I'll find them and drag them the whole way here!" Nyx babbled, wringing her shaking hands. The fear in her eyes was palpable as she stumbled backwards.

Thankfully, Ionas was not difficult to sway. The fierce look on his face dimmed, and he sank back onto the throne, running his fingers through his dark hair. The odd-eyed elf could have sworn it was greying early with all of the stress he seemed to carry on his shoulders. She swallowed a hard lump in her throat and crept closer, not daring to leave without his approval. She'd done that only once before. Never again. "Erm... Prince Ionas? Are you okay? I-I meant what I said, you know."

"I know that, Nyx. You always do... when it's trivial. You only fail to keep your promises when I need them fulfilled the most." The raspy growl to his words frightened her all the more. But she knew she'd won— this time, at least. Ionas' rage was stifled.

"So... you'll put some thought into my apology?" she asked meekly, scrunching away from his scrutinizing glare. She felt like a mouse in his presence, and it humiliated her. Nyx had always been the independent type, capable of taking care of herself from a young age. She had to be, after what she went through. But ever since she had made the terrible mistake of accepting a somewhat... _unusual_... mission from the fellow Skywing a few months ago, she was trapped and terrified. Though her wings were not bound, they might as well have been. One slip-up might be all it took for her to lose anything from a finger to her head. She dreaded returning here time and time again.

The bounty hunter had survived this long, but how much longer would her good fortune last?

"No, I won't," he snapped. "There's nothing in the entirety of Xadia that compares to that young dragon in sheer power, you daft idiot. Well... nothing that you would be capable of securing, anyway. But the past is the past. It cannot be changed. I'll have to find another angle from which to attack my... little issue."

"And I'll be the errand girl for it," she muttered beneath her breath. Mist curled up from around the edges of Ionas' nose like a dragon at this, and his pupils seemed to narrow into slits.

"I'm blind, not deaf, Nyx. Watch yourself."

"Right, right. Sorry." She mentally kicked herself in the leg for that one. She could only dangle herself so far over the cliff edge before she would end up falling, after all.

The heavy sigh that left the elf prince's mouth made her look up again, and she immediately honed in on the faintest flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. For once, he seemed unsure on how to proceed. It gave her a boost of energy; the tiniest hope that she was still capable of breaking free of her figurative chains. Her future was not set in stone... yet. But he quickly regained his composure, and in a split second was back to impassiveness.

"You will make your way to the kingdom of the Tidebound elves, and camp at its northern border, for the time being. It is one of the few spots in their whole territory that is land-based, so you will be— for the most part— safe from patrols and passing travelers. But stay alert, and await further instructions from me. I am going to try to get into contact with someone there. Once I've done so, I'll likely send you on a little trip to meet them." A cold smile crossed his face as he cocked his head slightly. "An errand, you might call it."

Nyx's fingers curled into fists at her sides as she stared daggers at the smug prince. _Bastard_. He knew just how to push her buttons, didn't he? "Yes, sir," came her reluctant reply, her teeth grinding the entire time. She turned sharply on her heels, trying to make a swift exit, but was stopped by Ionas clearing his throat.

"Are you… forgetting something, by any chance?" he nearly purred.

The sound of Nyx falling to one knee seemed unbearably loud in the otherwise quietness of the crystal-filled cave, and did nothing to make her feel any better about her situation. This was mental torture for her in its purest form. How _dare_ he force her to grovel in front of him like some slave? This was not who she was. She was self-made, an opportunist; ready to leap on every chance that might yield a good harvest for her. A criminal relying only on herself, always on the run, stealing whatever caught her eye and enjoying the fruits of her unconventional labor. Everything about being a servant to some supposedly laudable royal made her skin crawl. His shit-eating grin at her reluctant compliance pierced through her like a sword.

"Much better. _Now _you may leave."

"How gracious of you, my lord," she hissed. After a few unbearable seconds, she rose again, and once more made for the immense doors that stood like a gateway into the throne room. The two guards present there— each holding a wooden staff nearly twice their own height— opened the doors for her in silence. As she stepped out into fresh air, the sound of them shutting behind her made her jump. Despite being painfully familiar with them, loud noises of any sort made her paranoid.

The elf then spread her wings, reveling in the sunlight that covered her, and gazed out over the edge at the view. From atop the mountain, she felt safe. Almost nothing could hurt her here— even in the heart of the Skywing kingdom, where many hated her. Clouds covered the land like a blanket, and the setting sun laid across them like a pat of butter, swathing everything in a tint of red. The floating structures connected to the mountain's peak that made up the great city were no simple feats of engineering, and the bridges connecting them swayed gently in the wind. Some of the lucky few who could boast flight perched on roofs or dipped in and out of the clouds, joyful and carefree. Such was the Skywing way: aiming for little, simply _being_, embracing constant change... like the sky itself. She would have found it to be quite a lovely mantra if it hadn't been the very thing that killed her parents.

Nyx shook her head, trying to clear her mind, and leapt off of the mountain without a second thought. There was no time to reminisce on struggles of times past, after all. She was a new woman now; her own person. However shameful her past might have been, she had chosen to move on from it. As Ionas had said: the past could not be changed. The future awaited her, and Nyx was determined that it would not be forever bound by the prince's dark magic contract. She wished she'd never signed the damn thing. But wishing got you nowhere, no?

For now, she simply had to listen... and wait for the perfect moment.

* * *

"Is this right?" Callum chirped eagerly as he held out his arms and began to paint the rune Ibis had shown him in the air. The mage shook his head, however, and grabbed his finger to guide it in a different direction.

"Start from the bottom up instead. It makes it easier to draw when you are in a hurry," Ibis said as he released him and stepped back. His human student laughed merrily at this, and spun in a circle, inadvertently causing the half-finished rune to dissipate.

"'In a hurry?' Like, you know, whenever I'm totally_ destroying_ an entire army with my epic sky powers?" He dramatically punched the air a few times, completing the image with sound effects. "Pow! Pow! Pow! Whoooooosh... yeahhhh! Callum saves the day!"

The Skywing elf scoffed, but the twinkle in his eyes gave away his feelings. "I certainly hope it never comes to that, but if you practice for long enough, perhaps."

"How long would you estimate? Personally, at least. Like, could I be mage-levels of good within the next few months if I work on it every day? Maybe... half a year or something?"

"I doubt it, Callum. I have been practicing magic since I could walk, and even I still have much to learn, despite growing up with some of the finest teachers that I could have been offered. Now... try again. I think you've nearly got it down."

Callum once more began to try and replicate the rune, and this time, he succeeded. The glowing letter mesmerized him, reflecting off of his face and casting light over the ground. Its swirling pattern and branching lines were far more complex than some of the very first ones Ibis had taught him two months ago when he and Rayla had made the decision to stay at the Storm Spire, while the others left for their respective homes. It had been a tearful goodbye, especially with Ezran (who he promised he would write to every week), but they all knew that it would be the best option for Zym. While the dragonet was bonding well with his mother, the great queen still frightened him at times, and having his closest companions nearby seemed to ease his nerves.

Nonetheless, despite a few setbacks, they had settled in well, and Ibis had been delighted to stay and take up the job of coaching the young human once the threat of the baby dragon's death no longer loomed over them. He would often talk about how much curiosity Callum gave him, and spent plenty of his free time poring over ancient texts which he would have brought to him from his personal library back home. Time and time again he would come around to the same conclusion: he was perhaps one of the only human beings in all the history of Xadia to form a connection to any primal element. While Rayla chose to work on refining her fighting skills and protecting Zym as the last of the dragonguard, Callum turned his attention to improving his rare abilities as a mage.

He was happy to report that he was improving quickly, and often regaled tales of his latest adventures to his companions around a fire late at night. Sometimes, whenever a training session had left him too achy to move much, he would draw them instead. Rayla liked his drawings— he could tell. The way her soft eyes lit up each time he'd hand her his sketchbook, or how she would gently point out errors in his anatomy, or small details whenever she happened across him doodling by himself. She was perceptive like no one else, able to hone in on the littlest things. It made him feel good to know she cared. Ezran was perhaps the only other person who had appreciated his passion for art since the beginning, and without the young king around to offer him jelly tarts or tease him, Rayla fit perfectly into the position as his closest friend and supporter.

Well... 'friend' was perhaps not the right descriptor to use.

"Well, hello there. Have I come at the wrong time?" Rayla appeared seemingly out of nowhere, rounding the last few steps that led up to the pinnacle of the spire with Zym on her shoulder. The little prince eagerly squeaked as he leapt onto Callum's head, knocking him off balance. With his concentration lost, the rune once more dissolved, but he was unbothered. He had a new target for his affections. As he ruffled the dragonet's soft fur and smiled, he leaned over to give the elf a kiss on the cheek.

"Never! Ibis and I are just having a... heart-to-heart. Care to join us?" He leaned over with the intent of bowing to her, but the weight of the young dragon on his head caused him to fall over with a yelp. Ibis and Rayla both laughed as the latter held out her hand to help him up.

"Alright, silly. I'd be happy to watch. But maybe you'll need to find a better perch for Zym, hmm?" she said with a grin. Zym chirruped and panted merrily at this prospect, leaping off of him as he stood up again. Callum rubbed the back of his neck, nursing the ache that was already forming there.

"He is growing quickly, thanks to Zubeia's efforts," Ibis mused thoughtfully.

Callum could only snort at this observation. "You think? I swear, he's gaining a hundred pounds a day!"

"Well... not quite that. At the rate he's being fed, perhaps a few pounds each day is a more reasonable estimate. As he gets older, that will increase. After all, male archdragons can weigh thousands of tons in their prime," he replied with a chuckle. Callum's jaw dropped at this. When he closed it again, a melancholy look appeared on his face.

"Man. He's going to be a pretty awesome king, isn't he?" the beginner mage said in a soft voice. However, the young dragon was not listening, and instead found joy in chasing after a beetle he'd spotted on a rock. Rayla reached out and gently took his hand as they watched Zym play with the critter together.

"I believe that he is doing the queen plenty of good. Even before the loss of Avizandum and her egg, I have never seen her leave the spire so often," Ibis murmured as he joined them in observing the dragonet's antics. Nonetheless, the concern written across his face was telltale of how he felt. "But, while her health is improving, one can never be certain. I fear that she may overwork herself."

"She's the _queen of the dragons_, Ibis. I'm sure she'll make sure she's taking care of herself as well," she assured her fellow elf as Zym watched the beetle play dead with renewed fascination. "She's no fool."

"No... no she is not," Ibis said in reluctant agreement. "Perhaps I'm just a bit too cautious."

"We're all a bit too cautious when it comes to taking care of the people we love," Rayla replied with a kind smile. She squeezed Callum's hand tighter before looking over at him for his response, but he was too busy staring at his feet and blushing to respond.

"I guess you're right." For a moment, there was a faraway look in Ibis' eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "Well, I apologize, Rayla, but I... I think that's enough training for the day." Then he turned to Callum, who seemed surprised that his training was ending early for the day. Usually, it lasted well until the moon had come up. "Your ability to memorize runes is certainly impressive, but it will not only need refining, but also to be written down. You have your spellbook?"

Callum seemed relieved to have an escape from his lack of romantic prowess. He procured a large, leather-bound book from his backpack, hoisting it into the air. "Uh, I mean, yeah! Always do! Wouldn't go anywhere without it. After all, you know... heh... a mage has gotta do what a mage has gotta do," he declared proudly, elbowing Rayla and winking as he did so. The elf crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow with a grin.

"Oh? And what _does _a mage do?" she asked with coy laughter.

"Ah, it's no big deal. But we... uh..." He faltered for a moment. "We... _pew pew_, if you get what I mean." He wiggled the fingers of his free hand, poorly mimicking the motions to one of the spells Ibis had taught him. Rayla laughed again, this time harder.

"Fascinating. I'm glad my mage boyfriend knows how to wield his power well," she said as she picked up Zym, who was now pouting because he had knocked his beetle friend out of sight. "Zym seems like he's getting tired. I'm going to bring him back to his nest, then. If you need me, scream as loudly as you can." A kiss of her own on his cheek and she was gone, lightly moving down the steps bathed in sunset and disappearing around the corner, leaving Callum grinning from ear to ear. He turned to Ibis gleefully and did a little dance.

"Did you hear that? She called me her mage boyfriend!"

"I did," the Skywing mage said, the fondness in his voice apparent. "Something special, that girl is. Just like her parents. She will make a fine dragonguard."

"You knew Rayla's parents?" Callum asked, surprised. The elf nodded.

"Of course I did. It is my most important duty to be here with the archdragons and make sure that they are healthy. We ran into each other plenty often." The smile faded from his face. "It was a great tragedy to me to hear of their losses."

"It seems like we've all lost something important to us, then." Callum thought gloomily back on his letter from Harrow, carefully left under his makeshift bed inside of the spire.

He read it often, and flushed with pride each and every time. But beneath that pride was always a twinge of sadness. He knew that its author would never again pull him into a warm hug, or praise him for a job well done, or live to see Xadia unite under a new king once more. The price to pay for evil deeds was heavy... but had he deserved death? The question kept him awake at night sometimes, eating away at his conscience.

"Indeed. But with the return of the dragon prince, I pray that we will never again see such sad times," Ibis said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Go get some rest, Callum. I think you need some time off just as much as I do."

"And what about you? Are you okay?" His brow knit together with worry. He didn't like seeing Ibis so oddly downcast.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just a little... nostalgic, I suppose. I think I need some time to meditate is all."

"Alright... if you say so. Good night, Ibis."

"Good night." As the sun at last disappeared over the horizon's edge, casting all of Xadia into shadows, the mage turned away from his departing pupil and stared at the clouds moving by. They were heavy, rimmed with grey— it was going to rain tonight, it seemed.

"_Manus, pluma, volantus!_" Then he was gone, leaving behind only a few fallen feathers.

His return would mark the dawn of a new era— and of a new chapter in the lives of those he had grown closer to in the last few months; who now lay sleeping, safe in the Storm Spire. The dragon throne was safe for now.

But how much longer would its peace last?


	2. Seven Thrones

**SEVEN THRONES**

Callum woke up screaming.

Raw terror twisted from his throat, and even as the screams died out, he felt his heart racing at an unimaginable speed and his body shaking hard. Sweat dripped off of his arms and legs, soaking the sheets beneath him. He was rooted to the spot, petrified, for what felt like hours. But the truth was that the ordeal lasted perhaps only thirty seconds before the door to his room flew open and crashed against the wall. In an instant, Rayla was kneeling at his bedside, eyes wide.

"Callum! Look at me, Callum. A-are you okay? By the archdragons, everyone in the spire heard you! Are you hurt?" The amount of pressure with which she was gripping his arm turned her knuckles white. Her free hand reached up to touch his face, cold and clammy. But his eyes were glazed over, and Rayla's heart sank when he did not respond. What could she do? She was no healer. The elf felt sick to her stomach at her own helplessness. "Oh, Callum. Say something," she begged in a small voice.

At last, he began to stir, as if he had been asleep throughout it all and was only just now waking up. A fit of spastic coughing overtook him, but he fought through the pain just enough to sit up and accept a tight hug from Rayla, whose cry of relief filled him with warmth.

"Thank the moon you're alright," Rayla murmured. He opened his mouth to console her, but before he could, the sound of pattering caused both of them to look up. It was Zym, eyes wide and tongue lolling out of his mouth. A concerned squeak escaped the dragonet as he crawled up onto the bed and sat on the human mage's feet. Callum cracked a small smile at this.

"Well, I'm glad I have a comfort committee," he finally managed to say, his tone dry. That earned him a smack across the back of the head from the elf.

"A _comfort __committee_? I thought you'd been murdered!" Rayla snapped. But the anger left her as quickly as it had come. She again reached up to cup his face, this time with both hands. "I imagine what just happened to you wasn't much better, though. Are you sick?"

"No... I had a nightmare." The way he said _nightmare _sent chills down her spine and caused the baby archdragon to hunker down and whine. "A bad one. I haven't had one like that in a long time..."

Rayla procured a match from her robe pocket and lit the candle that lay dormant on the bedside table. Shadows danced across the wall of the now dimly lit chamber as she climbed into bed beside him and wrapped his blanket around the three of them. For a brief while, there was nothing but silence as the couple and their little dragon friend simply experienced each other's company.

"What was it about?" she finally asked, looking up at him. He seemed to have calmed down now, one arm wrapped around the elf as he looked down at Zym in his lap and bit his lip. But he could only shake his head at her question.

"Something about... being royalty? Chairs? I actually don't know now. Funny." He paused for a moment, considering whether or not to elaborate. "When I was a kid, I used to get pretty awful night terrors. My parents sometimes stayed up all night trying to calm me down. But the worst part wasn't _experiencing_ the dreams— it was trying to forget them afterwards. They'd come back over and over again, almost like they were taunting me: like they would always be inside my head, even when I was awake. Sometimes I didn't even want to blink. They stopped as I got older, but I remember how difficult it was to push them away. I don't like how this one just... disappeared. It feels wrong."

Rayla smiled kindly and squeezed his hand. "We've been through a lot, Callum. Maybe all of those crazy emotions are just now catching up to you. I know I've been all jumpy lately, at least. Excuse my language, but I was ready to stab some shit when I heard you scream."

"Excuse your language? Heh, no way. I like it. Makes you sound like you mean it. Do Moonshadow elves curse all of the time, or is that just a you thing?" The mage grinned cheekily as his girlfriend flushed. He seemed to be returning to his old self and forgetting his dream. It was easy to when you were looking at the most beautiful, talented girl you'd ever met, after all.

"Well, not _all _of the time!" she protested with a laugh. "But it depends a lot on the elf, I suppose." A nostalgic smile crossed her face as she continued. "Ethari could make a sailor blush if he messed up while working. Runaan tried to cover my ears at first, but I think he figured out that I was a lost cause before long."

"Really? I'd never guess Runaan to be the prudish one!" Callum said with an exaggerated gasp.

"Oh, whatever." The big grin on Rayla's face faded a bit as she looked down. "What I wouldn't give to have him back, prude or not."

"Rayla, I—"

Callum was interrupted by a crashing noise outside of the door. They all froze at once, and Zym chirruped curiously at the sound. He leapt out of the boy's lap to scurry into the hall, but the dragonet's subsequent squeal sent the couple scrambling to follow him. The sight that met their eyes horrified them both.

"Ibis! What happened?" Rayla immediately asked in horror as she reached to support him. But she was too slow. The mage made a small, pleading noise in the back of his throat before collapsing to his knees and passing out cold.

* * *

The sounds of the forest comforted Nyx. As the hare she'd killed a few hours earlier roasted on her hand-fashioned spit, she pulled her knees up to her chest and just _listened_. The pops of burning wood, tweeting of woodland birds, and the soft hisses of stray embers dying in the dirt made her feel just a little bit better about herself. Perhaps everything she'd worked for was going down the drain, but nature could care less about that. It simply moved along, the cogs of time continuing to turn, no matter what occurred. Maybe that was why she felt safest on her own, amidst the untamed wilderness. Nature didn't betray you when you least expected it. It didn't threaten. It didn't fail to protect you in dark times. How could it? After all, it simply... was. Being angry at nature didn't help anyone. It didn't offend the desert to be told that it was a long journey, or the storm clouds that they ruined your picnic. It was sure a lot less complicated than people.

"Shit!" she growled suddenly as her eyes flew open and she jumped up, her meditation interrupted. A piece of wood from the fire had landed on her thigh, searing through her pants. She dusted it away, wincing at the pain. That was going to leave a mark.

"Having a bad day, are we?"

A voice cut through the trees surrounding Nyx, and the elf immediately reached for her weapon propped against a nearby rock. The thin wooden staff felt cool and familiar in her hand as she gripped it tight. At its tip, a pair of sharp blades fashioned into crescent shapes gleamed in the firelight. It had been her closest companion since she was a teenager, stolen from the house of a solitary Moonshadow elf. She raised the weapon threateningly, pointing it at the tree line.

"Who's there? Don't make me drag you out kicking and screaming, because I will!"

The deep chuckle that erupted from the darkness horrified her. Like Ionas, it radiated such unbridled confidence that her nerve was lost in an instant. Her face turned sheet-white as she backed up against the rock.

"That won't be necessary, dear. You and I are friends. Prince Ionas sent you, did he not?"

"He did," Nyx slowly replied, eyes darting to and fro as she tried to locate where the voice was coming from. "What do you want?"

"A promise that you won't stab me would be an excellent start."

The elf bandit slowly set down her staff and raised her arms in the air, the unnerved look never leaving her face. "Is that better?"

"Ah, yes. Very much. May I come out now?"

"Please, enlighten me." The sarcasm edging into her voice was poignant, but the owner of the voice seemed either not to notice or simply didn't care. As they emerged from between two enormous pines, Nyx gasped involuntarily. "I know you!"

His brow rose, and sure enough, the Skywing knew exactly who she was looking at. He was hard to forget, after all. Bright blue eyes, an enormous pair of wings— one black, one white— soft brown skin, and lush, long red hair. Though it had been years, memories still came rushing back to her.

School had been a... rough time for Nyx. She was never very good at paying attention, and her grades had always been poor. No matter how often her parents scolded her, she could never manage to improve. Homework had frustrated her, and she would usually get distracted within minutes. Something about the blank pages just _sitting there_, taunting her, never sat well in her stomach. As such, she clung to whatever friends that she could make in order to keep from going insane.

One of her closest schoolmates had been Ruith Wolfe— perhaps the only one who understood her struggles. He was the smartest kid in class and quite popular, but somehow, he had never been snobbish. He offered to help her with her work often, and when that didn't seem to help, he eventually just began to pass her his papers so that she could copy off of them. They both got in trouble for that one. Nonetheless, she never forgot his kindness, even after she ditched the Skywing town she'd grown up in. He was a natural in social situations, and could enchant a room with his charm and goodnatured personality— a stark contrast to the often awkward Nyx, who spent a lot of her time tripping over her words and reading off in the darkest corner she could find. Opposites attracted, though, and they were close friends for a long time.

Now, Nyx wasn't so sure what she thought about him. Long-forgotten emotions resurfaced as she saw him for the first time in years, standing on the other side of the fire with a curious expression on his face. He almost seemed to be calculating, staring deep into her eyes as the light illuminated his face. His hair had grown longer, reaching nearly to his hips, and his hands were weathered from years of use. He was taller, too. She used to tower over him; now, the roles had switched. Without a doubt, he had changed much. Did he remember her as well? For a moment, joy filled her heart. Then he opened his mouth and spoke.

"We've met?" he asked in a flat voice, deeper than she'd expected. The disappointment that instantly appeared on Nyx's face made him scoff with a stupid half-smile on his own. "I apologize; I didn't mean that as a personal attack. My mind is everywhere these days, what with all of the drama. Have you heard that the dragon prince was returned safe and sound to his mother? Ionas had quite the fit over that one. I wouldn't be surprised if he had the head of whoever failed to intercept his transportation. What a fool they must have been."

"Riiiiiight." Nyx's voice dripped with annoyance. Now she was just irritated. This wasn't the friend she remembered. He seemed... colder, more smug. What had happened to him after all this time? "Well, the name's Nyx. And you're Ruith, no? I'm nearly positive that you and I went to school together. You used to let me copy your homework, remember?"

Recognition suddenly twinkled in his eyes, and he clapped his hands together in delight. "Oh, yes! It's all coming back to me now! That was so long ago... goodness. I'd nearly blocked it all out. You were the troubled girl I took pity on! The one with the... beautiful eyes." His look softened and he smiled, but he didn't appear kindly. No— suddenly, he scared her again. There was something predatory in his gaze: something that made her want to run and hide. The forest didn't seem big enough to save her from that look.

But it disappeared as quickly as it came, and then he'd sat down next to her with a cheerful grin. "What a coincidence! I thought you'd died a most terrible death when you dipped out all those years ago. But it seems that you're fit as a fiddle! I'm delighted to have you as a future partner in crime." He reached to pat her on the shoulder, but she shrunk away and stared daggers at him.

"Yeah, yeah. But we're not in high school anymore. Shit's changed. This is life and death now, not essays and letter grades. And... _don't _do that. I'm not kidding."

"Do what, love?" he asked innocently, smiling so wide that it hurt her own face to watch. "I'm not doing anything. It must be in your head." She intended to protest, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand. "But that's not important right now. We have more crucial matters to deal with! I've been given orders to stay with you and await orders from our dear Ionas concerning his Tidebound elf friend. He said something about not trusting you. Did you really get roped into one of his contracts?"

"Wait, are you telling me you _don't _have one?" She was so surprised by this new discovery that she completely forgot about his earlier behavior. "I thought all of his cronies did."

"Mmm, not that I'm aware of. I work for myself, darling. Ionas and I go _way _back— we used to deal in... other things. This is just a favor I'm doing for him. You ought to be careful around him, you know. He's like an eel: slimy and quick to strike. Well... a blind eel, I suppose. Are all eels blind?"

The Skywing elf rambled on, his deep voice falling into a lull that quickly had Nyx sinking her head into her hands and sleep tugging at her eyelids. Had he always been so talkative? Something wasn't quite right. She was afraid to fall asleep around him. His sultry expression flashed through her mind. It was like she'd been marked for prey.

She could only pray that Ionas had had good judgement on whoever he'd sent to join her.

* * *

"A message from your brother, King Ezran! I just retrieved it from the courtyard."

The young royal looked down from his throne at the kneeling soldier who'd arrived in the grand hall. He was smiling with warmth as he held out the scroll to him, weathered from travel. Under most circumstances, Ezran would have been delighted to see a letter from Callum. They'd been writing back and forth for weeks, and he always looked forward to watching the smoke-clad birds sail into the castle walls carrying news. But upon seeing what color cloth the scroll was wrapped in, horror filled his eyes. It was black. Black signified something terrible.

Death.

"Is something the mat—?"

"You are dismissed, soldier, as well as everyone else in this room. This is a private matter for only myself and the king. Thank you."

Ezran was not the one who spoke these words, though. It was Corvus, his closest advisor and most trusted friend in the absence of his brother. He knew exactly what was happening as well, and sensed the sudden grief which overtook the boy. As the confused lords and ladies closed the doors of the grand hall behind them, the tracker immediately turned to Ezran with worry staining his brow. "My king, let us not be so hasty to assume things. Callum could have simply... run out of dye, or been tired while he was writing it, or..."

"Hope for the best, Corvus, but prepare for the worst. That's what my dad always used to say." The young king's hands shook as he held the letter in his hands and stared at it. In his lap sat Bait, the loyal glow toad, who glowed a fierce blue color as he croaked and nuzzled his arm. Though he may not have understood what the colors stood for, he seemed to know that it couldn't be good. Slowly, Ezran began to open it. The tracker peered over him, worrying as he shifted from foot to foot. Callum, Rayla, and the others he'd come to know along the way were like family to him now.

The note was sloppy, which was not terribly unusual for his brother— handwriting had never been his strong suit— but today it set him on edge to see. He'd written it awfully fast, hadn't he? His eyes glided over the page, and he bit his lip as he read farther and farther down. Though the entire letter was terrible, it was the last few sentences that truly sent chills racing down his spine. Tenderly, he placed the note down on a small table beside the throne.

"Please alert the watchtower guards that the two elves will be traveling here with my brother, and tell the castle staff to prepare for visitors," he said quietly. Corvus nodded respectfully and bowed before leaving his presence. Now, he was alone with only Bait and his thoughts.

Ezran had grown in leadership over the months, and with the guidance of Opeli and many others who wanted to see him improve, he was starting to flourish in a variety of areas. One of these was leading with his head and not his heart. Emotions were important, of course, but screaming and sobbing would do nothing to change the situation. That had been a difficult thing for him to grasp at first. But now, strangely enough, he felt too numb to even try and cry. Callum's closing words echoed in his head over and over again.

_We have no idea what we're dealing with, Ezran. If it could do something like this to Ibis, then there's no telling how it could hurt other people, too. Please stay safe. _

_Love, Callum._


	3. Killing Her Softly

**KILLING HER SOFTLY**

Even though her aching muscles begged her to take a break, Nyx refused to stop. She marched on dauntlessly, pushing herself to the limit, shoving through tangles of bushes and slicing aside anything which got in her way. She wished she could hack into the man who walked in front of her the same way she removed stubborn roots or branches from her path and complete the mission on her own, but she knew better. So she let him drone on, his voice a constant noise in the background. Thank Avizandum that the scenery was beautiful, or she wasn't entirely sure if she could tolerate his incessant chatter.

While she was doing her best to keep a reasonable distance away— both physically and emotionally— Nyx couldn't help but be charmed by him. It was simply the effect he had on people; from a young age, it seemed like Ruith always knew how to get on the good side of anyone he talked to. While he was certainly grating every last nerve she had with his ramblings, she still had to admit his storytelling prowess and cheer were endearing. Sure, he was… different. But in some ways, he still appeared to be the same old Ruith. But then she recalled how he'd looked at her last night. Was he a threat, or was she merely overthinking things? There was really no way to tell.

She swore that she wouldn't let her guard down, no matter what.

"Say, Nyx, I think we're rather close to that first landmark that the letter pointed out to us. See those rocks? They seem to look like claws. What say you?"

The Skywing elf looked up, panting quietly from the exertion, and beheld the coastline with childlike awe. Cerulean waves crashed against the cliff side they stood atop, sending flecks of foam spraying into the air. A crab peered at them with tiny black eyes from a crack in the stone before scuttling away. Overhead, gulls shadowed the brilliant golden sun, screeching and diving into the water. It was a gorgeous view. Further out to sea, she noted a group of three water-beaten crags with rugged, sharp peaks. As Ruith had suggested, they vaguely resembled a clawed hand emerging from the depths. Something about it made her uncomfortable.

The bird— an unassuming goshawk with a nasty attitude— had come early in the morning, when the sun was still far from cresting the distant mountains. Nyx was nipped multiple times by its sharp beak before Ruith was able to ambush it with a backpack and wrestle the letter from its claws. He'd cracked a few jokes about Ionas' temper after that (and admittedly made her laugh), and even offered to help bandage her bleeding fingers. She'd vehemently refused, of course, insisting that she could do it herself. But they were too swollen and bloody to cooperate. So, despite many complaints, her fellow Skywing had carefully bound them in clean cotton.

Then they read the letter: and it was no small feat to accomplish what it demanded. They were to travel to the heart of the Tidebound kingdom, Cyneas, using landmarks to stay on course. After following some very specific directions, they would proceed to meet up with a certain friend of Ionas'. The friend in question would then provide them with a parcel to be delivered back to him. Ruith offered to finish off the night watch after they'd put the letter away, and she had been too tired to refuse. Yet… sleep did not come for a long while. Nyx had wondered plenty as she tried to fall back asleep what could be inside of it. Some super weapon? A doomsday device? Maybe a rare magical ingredient? What could possibly compare to the prince of dragons in power?

They'd set off early in the morning, and had been hiking for hours since then through the jungle with the sun beating down on them. Flight was too dangerous this deep into the borders, meaning they had to sacrifice speed for stealth. Now, the tree line they had become used to was broken by beaches and cliffs.

"Yeah, I suppose so. Are we close, then?" The wind whistled in the elf's ears as she stepped closer to the edge. She wanted to dive off of it, spread her wings, and feel the cold ocean on her pinions. But there was no time to dawdle. Ionas didn't like dawdling, and somehow, he always seemed to know when someone had done so. It was rather uncanny.

Ruith nodded and peered sideways at her. "If Ionas writes true, then we should be there around sunset. It's… not ideal, of course. I'd rather not be tip-toeing through a big city in the dead of night. But we'll take what we can get, no?"

"Why are we planning on sneaking around at all? Can't we just tell them we're here on a business trip or something? This doesn't have to be something out of a fantasy novel," Nyx replied with a scoff. Her elf companion rubbed the back of his head and laughed. Was he... embarrassed? That was a new one.

"Well, it's sadly not that simple. I'm not... _appreciated_... in Cyneas. They know my face a little bit too well."

"Don't tell me you have a bounty on your head, Ruith," the Skywing bandit groaned. "What did you do? That makes things a thousand times harder!"

"What, and you don't? I can name eight cities off of the top of my head that would give up anything to have you locked in a dungeon. The background details are unimportant," Ruith shot back with venom. The sudden change in his normally eloquent speech startled Nyx, but she didn't let it show on her face.

"Alright, alright, fair enough! No need to be so sensitive, jeez. We'll sneak in, then." She put her hands up dramatically and turned away as if she were thinking of other options. But, in reality, she was trying to decipher why he'd suddenly become so defensive.

What had Ruith done to get him so riled up over a bounty?

"Okay, how about we disguise ourselves? You can put your hair back or something— a lot of peasant clothes have hoods. I can probably snatch some stuff off of clotheslines really quick. If anyone questions us, we'll say we're... uh... on our way back from a late market run. That's not suspicious, right?" Nyx finally said.

The older Skywing grinned. "I admire your thinking, but, with all due respect, love, your little desert skirmishes and village escapades you claim to be experienced in aren't quite the same as what we're going to do here. That might work on people from the lower classes, but any self-respecting soldier or noble would recognize me instantly. I've left a lasting impression there. They'll be on higher alert, too, the closer we get to the castle. Anything out of the ordinary will likely be questioned."

"_Village escapades_? Do you think I'm some kind of idiot?" she asked, eyebrows furrowing.

His smile was once again as winsome as ever. "Maybe."

It took immense self-control for Nyx to not immediately break his nose. "Okay, fine, maybe you do. But do _you _have any better ideas? If you just want to waltz in, be my guest. Don't come crying to me when you get beheaded."

"Mmm, not really. But regardless of whether I like it or not, your idea is the best we've got. I'll just find something to cover my face." He looked up at the sun and shielded his eyes. "It seems we'll be keeping the moon company once more tonight. Now, let's not keep it waiting!"

He was practically skipping off again before she could smack him over the head with her staff. What an asshole. Fuming, she trailed after him, inhaling the breeze deeply in an attempt to calm down. Strangely enough, though, it didn't smell like the sea. Her insides twisted with horror. Now she knew why the clawed rocks had disturbed her so much.

_Everything_ smelled like blood.

* * *

Ezran hadn't felt this tired in what seemed like years. His head drooped towards the dinner table as he massaged his temples, eyes slowly opening and shutting as tried to block out the raucous noise that surrounded him. Crowds and loud sounds didn't usually bother him, and yet here he was. He'd hardly touched his food, and rather occupied himself at the royal dinner by chasing it around with a fork. Elbows on the table were bad manners, but he feared that he'd fall off of his chair if he didn't.

"My king? Are you alright? If you'd like to leave, I can bring you to your bedroom," Corvus spoke gently into his ear. Bless his heart, the young king thought fondly to himself. He couldn't think of a better advisor to have at his side than the expert tracker, even if he could get a little bit pushy or nervous at times. But he only sat up and shook his head, groaning faintly.

"I can't leave now, Corvus. Everyone's so worried about my brother. What if I'm asleep when he gets here? I don't want to seem like I don't care that he's coming. Ibis is hurt, too. He'll need medical attention. A-and then I'll need to make sure that nobody tries to hurt Rayla… I have to do this, as king."

Everything swirled around in his mind, feeling far too complex for him to get a firm grip on. Was he sick? No, now was the worst time to get sick! Not when Callum needed him the most. He had to be a strong ruler. Not so much for his own sake, as for the sake of the people. However, Corvus only frowned at his bold statement.

"Don't be like your father, Ezran. Katolis needs a strong king, yes, but it certainly won't be thriving if its king is bedridden because he was too stubborn to tend to his health." He paused, pursing his lips. "Well, either that, or if you're dead. I hope that wouldn't be the case."

Ezran laughed a little. "Well, I definitely don't think I'm going to die. But I'm not going to bed, either. Not until I know that my brother is here safely. I'm probably just… stressed! This is, uh, a pretty stressful situation, heh. I'm sure I'll be fine after everything is taken care of." His laughter was not very convincing.

Corvus looked down and sighed. "If you insist, my king. But may I suggest that we end this dinner? All of this gossiping is giving _me_ a headache, and you don't seem to be faring much better."

The boy nodded appreciatively and moved to stand up. But his advisor beat him to it, shushing the noisy nobles and raising a hand. "The king speaks." As a hush passed over everybody in attendance, Ezran took note of their faces. They all looked so… uneasy. The news he had brought them was grave, after all. He saw a frown creasing Opeli's brow out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to be able to tell how sick he felt.

"I don't know if Callum will be back tonight. Maybe… maybe he never will. But I know that I will be among the first to hear of it if— no, _when_ he does. I'm not feeling well, so I'm calling off the remainder of this dinner. I'll be sure to let you all know what happens tomorrow. A-and stay safe!"

While a few seemed disappointed, a vast majority could sympathize with his predicament— especially those who had served King Harrow in the past. The dining hall slowly began to clear out, reminding the young royal of when he had received his brother's letter. Finally, Ezran, Corvus, and one other individual were left alone.

Opeli.

"My king, do you want me to send for a doctor? You're terribly pale," the High Council member said with worry as she approached him.

"No, thank you. I'll be okay, Opeli," Ezran assured her with a kind smile. "Today's just been kinda crazy. Besides, Corvus is too stubborn to let anything kill me." The scoff he heard over his shoulder seemed to prove this statement.

She returned the smile and bowed politely to him. "For such a terrible cloud to have come over the castle, you are bearing this load well. I'm proud of you. You're welcome to call for me if you need anything."

"I will," he promised quietly as the councilwoman departed. As the great doors shut behind her, the young king suddenly experienced a pang of loneliness washing over him. He felt so small and alone there, with only Corvus at his side. He missed Callum and Rayla... he missed his father. Harrow would have known what to do. His dad always did.

"I'm going to be in my study," he said abruptly. "I think some reading will clear my head a bit."

Ezran dashed off before he could hear his advisor's reply, fighting back tears.

* * *

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't cave in your skull right now, punk."

"I'll give you five!"

The sickening _crack _of a fist connecting with Nyx's jaw echoed through the night, the sky obscured by storm clouds. This particular soldier was proving to be quite the challenge for her to subdue, and as she tried to gather her scattered thoughts, the horrid idea that they would be caught due to all of the noise crossed her mind. Something had to be done about him, and fast.

"Good fuck! You nearly took out one of my teeth, asshole! You're lucky that I don't want you dead," she hissed as she ducked under the swing of his sword and smashed her staff against the side of his head. The soldier crumpled like straw, and she immediately held a hand to her mouth. The moon illuminated the back alley she hid in like a stray cat, and she raised her fingers to the its rays to examine them. They were dripping with dark blood. Shit. Was her jaw messed up? She tried to open it and was met with splitting pain... but no broken bones. Thank Avizandum.

The sound of soft footsteps behind her made the Skywing spin around. She was met with the grinning face of Ruith. He was holding a knife in his hands, stained with blood. "Don't smile like that at me, creep. Did you kill the other one? I thought we agreed we wouldn't do that unless we had to!" she snapped.

"Don't worry, love; I did no such thing. He's alive. Well... for now, I guess. He could bleed out, but that's on him," the older elf said pleasantly. She would have been pleased to hear that at any other time— frankly, it seemed as if he'd showed self control— but alarm bells began to ring in her head. Something in his voice felt... off. Once again, Nyx felt primal fear rising up in her. Why was he looking at her like that? He took a step forward, and she backed away in time.

"Okay, seriously, let's go. We're almost there," she tried to demand. But her mouth felt inexplicably dry, and the words came out as though she were spitting dust.

"Why can't we stop for a little while? That little bastard wouldn't stop wiggling. Do you know how hard it is to hold down a man with only your own body weight? I'm used to having chains," he said with a dramatic sigh. Nyx's heart skipped a beat as she looked back down at the knife, then up at him.

"What in the name of the archdragons do you mean? A-actually, don't answer that. Hypothetical question. Really, Ruith. This is no time to stop! This wasn't part of the plan. You're freaking me the fuck out." Fighting every instinct that told her to run, she reached to grab him.

In seconds, she was laying flat on her back, the rain landing in her eyes. The moon peered from between two clouds for a brief moment, shining down on the Skywing pressing down on her arm and grinning maniacally.

"You know, this is almost my favorite part. They always try so hard to get away." The heel of his shoe dug deep into her skin, and Nyx yelped in pain as she thrashed and swung her staff at him. He caught it with his free hand and removed it from her grasp with ease, studying it casually. "Hm... what a curious weapon. I've never used something so large before. The blades are curved... perhaps it would work better than a knife?"

"What the hell are you going to do to me?!" she screamed in terror. Forget Ionas' warnings. Forget the contract. Forget the fear of being too loud. Anyone could arrest her right now. She'd happily be locked in the darkest dungeon in Xadia and left to rot. _Anything _was better than being here. Everything that her subconscious had told her was right.

"Relax, my dear... I'm not interested in your body. Just your eyes. If you stop fucking wailing, maybe I won't break your wings before I take them out."

A clap of thunder shook the earth moments after a lightning bolt streaked overhead. How couldn't she tell? She could always tell a dangerous person from a harmful one! Suddenly, she remembered something which turned her blood to ice.

"You told me you could count cities which I had bounties in. How the hell did you know that? How? You said you thought I died! _H__ow the hell did you know_?"

"Oh, I've known your whereabouts for quite awhile now. Ionas isn't exactly the most poised when he drinks, you know. Even an eel can be caught if you know what bait to use. I nearly thought I'd given myself away when I said that— I don't usually let things slip like the prince. But you forgot about it so quickly... I think you were more concerned about my own bounty, hmm? Would you really like to know why this city hates me so much?" He knelt down, still holding her against the cobblestone road, and whispered in her ear. Her eyes went wide.

"You're a monster! You can't do that, you sick fuck!" she cried out in horror.

"Oh, I _know_ I can, darling. I have the collection to prove it. And, for what it's worth, Cyneas isn't the only city that wants me dead. There are dozens more... hell, maybe a hundred. Even the human kingdoms know me all too well. And _your _eyes... well, they're certainly out of a fairytale. Few others compare. They'll make a lovely centerpiece," he purred with malice.

Nyx's legs moved before her head did. Maybe it was instinct, or some last-ditch survival attempt, or perhaps she had just been in too much shock to move quickly before. She hooked them around the other elf's ankles, twisting them until he went crashing to the ground, and immediately made a run for it. She tried to get into the air, but her wings were too soaked with water. So she kept running, crying and dodging into back pathways, desperate to get away from the monster she'd once called a friend. But that was years ago, wasn't it? Friends always seemed to turn against you in the end. She should have known... she should have known.

The forest called to her, and she went streaking towards it. The wilderness was no traitor. It didn't leave her behind. It was still patient, bearing the torrents of rain... waiting for her return. Callum and Rayla— she had to find them! They could potentially be her only hope of survival.

Or would they betray her too?


End file.
